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User blog:DB Baxter/Ab Inferno - Chapter 2: Dreams of Tomorrow
Kazrris and Senex walked down the stairs and towards the main dining hall. There, the other soldiers had occupied a table. Kitan and Rindoth, the Redguard and Bosmer from earlier, were chowing down on some sort of steak, while Sigmuth sat with a scowl on his face as he was tended to by a mage. A female Breton, from the looks of it. “Oria, how is he?” Senex asked. “He’s gonna be fine she told him as she worked her restoration magic to remove a few bruises. “His nose is going to look crooked from here on out, but nothing too major.” “Ego is horribly scarred, though. Might not ever be the same again…” Kitan laughed. “Yeah, laugh it up,” Sigmuth growled. “If I really wanted to, I would have turned that cat into a rug.” “I’m right here if you want to try again,” Kaz challenged, waving him over to do so. Every eye at the table slowly fell on the Khajiit as they now realized he was there. “Why is he here?” Sigmuth asked sourly. “Well, ‘Kaz’ here as offered so graciously to help us in-“ “We don’t need help,” Sigmuth interrupted, with a scowl on his face. “- our campaign against Daedric activity,” Senex finished with a sigh. “Master Sigmuth, I would advise you to keep an open mind on this matter.” “An open mind?” Sigmuth spat. “This guy shows up and tried to damn near kill all of us, and you want him to come along with us?” “Actually, he just tried to kill you…” Kitan pointed out. “He pulled a sword on all of us!” “After you instigated the conflict,” Rindoth added in. “Unbelievable…” Sigmuth grunted. “Guy tries to kill me, and that automatically makes him your fucking hero…” “That’s enough!” Senex slammed his fist down on the table, grabbing the attention of everyone there and a few people at other tables. “I will not have my men bickering like spoiled children. Am I understood?” “Understood…” Rindoth and Kitan answered in unison. “Yeah…” Sigmuth muttered. “Good. Now, Kaz, pull up a seat. “We have an important matter to discuss…” Senex ordered. Kaz did just that. “To bring you up to speed, Kaz, the Jarl of Eastmarch has summoned us to deal with a possible Daedric threat,” Senex explained. “Last week, the city discovered a lion hiding among the sheep. A worshipper of Peryite attacked the market place, infecting numerous individuals with Brain Rot...” “The dude puked on them,” Kitan added. “Like, projectile vomiting. Had a pretty good aim, too…” Kazrris’s nose wrinkled in the revulsion at the very thought of using bile as a weapon. “Is this guy still on the loose?” He asked. “Yes, and it’s not just him. The guards searched his residence and found letters that suggest there are more of them. A whole cult of them hiding down in a cave known as Lost Knife Hideout.” “The guards are already stretched thin right now in this hold, and so the duty of eliminating this cult falls to us,” Rindoth finished. “That’s all there is to it?” Kazrris asked. “We just, walk in and split a few skulls, and we’re out?” “It’s as easy as that,” Senex chuckled. “It’s not the flashiest or most important job we’ve had on our plate, but this is still something that needs to be done.” Kazrris rose from his seat. He felt a jolt of excitement coursing through his veins, which he usually got when he was about to go out and put a few bandits in a hole. It was welcome feeling. One that made him feel alive. “Let’s go dice up a few fuckers, eh?” “Hold on there, Killer,” Kitan laughed. “The rest of us need some rest, yeah? We’re going first thing in the morning.” “Oh…” Kazrris slumped back down into his seat, obviously disappointed. “Alright… I can wait a day. Sure…” Senex rolled his eyes. “The enthusiasm is appreciated, Kaz, but Kitan is right. We need a day to rest.” With that, the Vigil rose from the table and headed for their rooms to rest. Kazrris was left at the table, however, as he had no home or room to go to. He watched them go to their rooms, but his line of vision was blocked by Sigmuth. “I wanna make one thing clear with you, Cat,’ Sigmuth said, folding his arms. “You might think you’re a badass mercenary type, but here you’re just an initiate into the Vigil. A rookie. So don’t strut around here thinking you’re all high and mighty. You gotta prove yourself first. Understand?” Kazrris’s gaze slowly turned upwards so that he may look the Nord in the eye. It was then that he first noticed that one of his eyes was more oddly shaped and moved less than the other. It almost looked dead. “You got a glass eye,” Kazrris noted. “Do you understand?” Sigmuth raised his voice. “Yeah, alright, I get it,” Kazrris said, scooting his chair back slightly. “Gotta earn the respect around here. Understood.” “Good,” The Nord grunted. Seemingly satisfied, Sigmuth left the Khajiit alone and went towards his room. Kazrris was once again left alone to his thoughts. Normally, he would have bought a room and settled down for the night too, but he did not come back to life with gold in his pockets. On top of that, he really didn’t feel tired. Despite two fights and feeling and this heavy feeling of confusion and stress pressing down upon his shoulders, he didn’t feel ready to lie down for the night. So instead, he sat at the table and watched people come and go. Time passed quickly, and soon the inn was starting to thin out. At this point, the only people left in the inn were the drunk Nords who were face down and passed out on the tables, and the unlucky bartenders who had to work at this time of night. With nothing left to do there, Kazrris decided to walk outside to get some fresh air. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When night settled upon the oldest city of the Nordic homeland, it became a beautiful image that one could only see in the most masterful of artworks. The fires reached up for the skies and sent their embers up into the stars. The snow lightly fell from the heavens and collected on the stones or on the shoulder of Windhelm’s citizens. And towering over all of this was the magnificence that was the Palace of the Kings, home to the Jarl himself. Kazrris wasn’t too interested in the beauty of the city. Once again, his mind was occupied on other thoughts. He stood underneath the Candlehearth Inn, doing nothing but watching the snow come down onto the nearby marketplace. Despite the numerous racists and drunkards that wandered around the streets, Kazrris didn’t have many bad memories of this place. He and Vordel very rarely went to the city when they were younger. When Hafnir had to make a trip, he would always take Denon. It was insisted that it was mere coincidence, but Kaz knew he chose Denon all the time because he wouldn’t pick fights for the pig-headed Nords. They were taken to the marketplace once. The first merchant they talked to was a Nord, and the first thing he did was call Vordel the fattest Gray-skin he had ever seen. And then that ‘Fat Gray-skin’ flew over the stall and beat the merchant senseless. It took Hafnir and 3 other guards to pull Vordel off of him. Kaz couldn’t help, for he was laughing too hard. Back in the present day, Kaz was smiling as he reflected on that moment. “That was only 13 years ago…” he said to himself, only to realize that wasn’t true. He had to remember, he was in a different era now. 15 years into a different era. How long after Tharn would that be, he wondered. 50 years, maybe? Perhaps even a century? Or two? However long it had been, Kazrris was sure of one thing; his time had long past. Jager Tharn had been defeated for sure. And after that time, there had been a completely different apocalyptic event. Everyone was most likely gone by this point. Either claimed on the expedition against Tharn or by old age, he figured. That meant he was alone now. Still, he had some hope to cling onto. He didn’t have any substantial proof they were gone. When he died, there were only a few people he knew were gone. Perhaps not much time had passed? Maybe they were all still alive. Maybe he could find a few of them down the road. Just one of them. Hell, he’d be satisfied to see that psychopath Naomi, or even Scire’s ugly mug. But preferably, he wanted to see Nissa again. Just thinking about her now made his heart skip a beat or two. He’d give anything to be in her arms again and her in his. Anything to just be in the same room again. Anything… Soon enough, his thoughts were interrupted by footsteps coming in his direction. He looked up to see that the footsteps belonged to no one that he knew. It was a Dark Elf fellow, a commoner by the looks of his clothes. His teeth were chattering, and he was rubbing his hands together for warmth. “You know, there’s an inn right behind me,” Kazrris pointed out. “If you’re cold, you could just go in there.” “Not today,” The Dark elf replied. “I have to be out of this city soon.” “Why?” “I’m heading up North towards Winterhold,” He said cheerfully. “I’m on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Azura.” “Shrine?” Kazrris arched an eyebrow. “I don’t remember Skyrim having a shrine to her…” “It was just built recently. Refugees from Morrowind built her up in the mountains,” The Dark Elf explained. “Gave everyone some hope. Gave me a lot of hope.” “Why are people fleeing Morrowind?” Kazrris asked. “Are they wrapped up in a war or something?” The Dark Elf cocked his head in confusion. “No… have you not heard of the tragedy? 10 years ago last month, Red Mountain erupted. All of Vvardenfell has been buried in ash.” “By the Divines…” Kazrris muttered. “Seems like every time someone comes around to save the world from an evil, something bigger comes up to take its place…” “Yeah…” The Dark Elf said. “Did you… not hear about the eruption?” Kazrris looked up at him. “I’ve been out of action for a while. Wasn’t around for that…” He said vaguely. “O-kaaay…” The Dark Elf stopped leaning on the wall. “Well, I have a journey to finish. Have a good night, sir…” With that, the Dark Elf proceeded towards the gates of Windhelm, leaving the Khajiit by himself. “So, there was another catastrophe…” Kazrris grimaced, putting his palms in his hands. “Good to know we all fought to save this world so the Daedra and Volcanoes could wipe it out instead. He wondered what is must have been like to been in Morrowind at that time. To see that initial blast of volcanic ash and smoke shoot up into the sky, and to feel death closing in on you when just 5 years previous, it felt like the world was finally safe. That was a recurring theme in this world, he realized. Someone does a little bit of good, and it lasts 5 seconds. And then when someone does a little bit of bad, it lasts 5 decades. Kazrris leaned back against the wall and slid down until he was on the ground. “All the hell everyone had to go through to fight Tharn and this Mythic Dawn, just for a volcano to do the job…” He went on. “Seems like none of the shit anyone does is worth it anymore…” With that, he rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes, and soon found himself drifting off into sleep afterwards. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kazrris found himself in a world different than when he previously was. Instead of a world of hard stones and cold temperatures, it was a warm and cozy wooden cabin. The Khajiit himself was in a candle lit room, with a single window letting in some natural sunlight. Outside, the trees were turning a bright yellow and red, indicating it was now autumn. “What is this…” Kazrris muttered. He looked down, and saw that his armor had been replaced by brown noble clothing and there was a diamond ring on his finger. To his right, there was a two-person bed and a chest just at its base. There were a few dressers in the room, and a mirror. “Bedroom…” He muttered. The Khajiit wandered over to the door and opened it. Beyond him was a staircase that lead downstairs. On unsteady legs, Kazrris continued walking. Each footstep felt heavy and was filled with uncertainty. Just down the stairs, he could hear people talking and laughing. The voices sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When he reached the bottom of the staircase, another open doorway stood in front of him. In what looked like a dining hall, many of people were seated around at a table. Immediately, he saw Vordel. A 6’6 muscle-bound Dark Elf with the Mohawk was hard to miss. Denon was there, too. And Utahsi. He could see Diana, Talin, Zaydate, Scire, and the rest of the group. And then, at the very end of the table, he saw Nissa. She was just as beautiful as Kazrris had remembered. From her long and soft red hair and smooth, unblemished skin to her those breathtaking eyes that melted the heart. And as soon as his eyes met hers, he smiled. Nissa returned the smile and waved. All the other faces in the room turned towards him, and they all waved and greeted him. For a split second, this felt like reality. Seeing everyone alive, seeing Nissa alive, his brothers alive, filled his heart with a sense of happiness that he had never felt before. But before he could even walk through the door way, the scene disappeared in a flash. Instead, Kazrris was in an empty space. A desolate black void, where he couldn’t even see his own two hands. “Hello?” He called out desperately. They couldn’t disappear from him, not again. “Niss!? Vordel?! Anyone?!” He practically shrieked, only to be met with a cold silence. Then, he heard a chuckle. It was barely noticeable at first, but it grew slightly louder. It morphed from a chuckle, to a laugh. It seemed to be coming from all around him. Then there was a second laugh. And a third. And more kept coming. Kaz knew that laugh. If there was one thing he would always know, it would be that sick laugh. He knew who it belonged to. He felt around on his clothes, which was now his usual armor again, and he ripped his swords free. He felt fear at first, not knowing where he was, but then he looked forward and saw a silhouetted figure standing in a rectangular light, arms stretched out as if he was expecting the Khajiit to hug him. Kazrris didn’t need to see his face to know who it was. He could feel the evil simply radiating from this monster’s core. And then that fear turned to rage. The Khajiit charged forwards, the laughter growing in number and volume as he got closer and closer. The gap was closed quickly, and just when he was right there and ready to severe the head from the body and end this once and for all, the world was gone. Swept out from under him. In its place, was the morning sunlight… ---------------------------------------------------------- “Hey, Khajiit,” Kitan muttered, nudging the unconscious Kazrris with his foot. “Wake up, man, we gotta go.” Kazrris awoke with a start, swinging both of his arms forward and yelling “Goriyn!” In a voice filled with hate. Kitan jumped back as the mercenary stumbled across the stone. “Woah, man, take it easy!” Kitan attempted to calm him down. Kaz’s eyes snapped from place to place. When he realized he was in Windhelm, he took a breath and slumped back onto the pavement. “You alright?” The redguard asked. “That must’a been one hell’uva nightmare…” “Yeah….” Kazrris muttered. He places his hands over his eyes to block out the sun’s intense glare. “It was…” “Well… we’re all up,” Kitan said awkwardly. “We’re getting some breakfast before we head out. I just wanted to see if you want some.” Kaz nodded as he drew in a few deep, shaky breaths. “Yeah… yeah, sure…” Category:Blog posts